"Thomas, wake up!"
Thomas opened his eyes to see Chuck staring down at him in the morning light.
Or the morning gray as he should say.
It was raining.
"It's raining!" Chuck said happily, stating the obvious. "Come on, I have an idea. We should get it done before everyone finishes breakfast."
"Is this another on of your plans?" Thomas asked, sitting up from his hammock and putting his shoes on.
Chuck rolled his eyes. "We both know last time it would've worked if Frypan hadn't shown up right as we were putting the fire out. But don't worry, this plan is a good one."
Thomas scoffed but got up to follow his young friend anyway. He never denied one of Chuck's "brilliant" ideas, no matter how stupid.
There was so little joy in the Glade and Chuck was always able to brighten it up. Or set it on fire, in some cases. Either way, they always had something to laugh about afterwards. That was something he always enjoyed.
"So what exactly are we doing?" Thomas asked, walking out into the open as small drops splattered his face. It was a pleasing feeling. It relaxed him.
"One word," Chuck answered. "Mud balls."
"That's two words."
"Two words," Chuck corrected immediately. "Mud balls. I've already got some started."
"Then what?"
Chuck rolled his eyes. "We're going to stare at them. Throw them at the Gladers! Duh."
Thomas sighed. "Of course."
~~~
By the time Chuck was pleased with the amount of mud balls they made (approximately 346 to Chuck's "very accurate counting skills"), it was really pouring.
Despite being in the cover of the trees in the forest, Thomas was practically soaked. He just hoped that meant the mud would wash off quickly.
"Alright, let's go," Chuck said, waving for Thomas to follow.
The older boy shook his head, following. He had, unfortunately, been assigned to carry all the mud balls in the basket. At least Chuck didn't make him carry them in his arms.
As soon as they made it to the clearing, Thomas saw Minho standing out in the rain with his arms out while Newt stood under the roof of the kitchen, shaking his head at the Runner.
Frypan was nearby as well, sitting in the grass near a puddle as he made a mud castle while Gally was a few yards away. Though the Builder was refusing to get out in the rain, he still gave the Chef pointers.
Thomas also noticed Teresa dashing through the rain into the forest on the other side of the Glade. He wondered where she was going.
"You ready Thomas?" Chuck asked, snapping Thomas back into their present task.
Thomas adjusted to hold the basket with one arm and grabbed a mud ball. He nodded.
Chuck grinned, grabbing two. "Let's go."
The two ran out yelling, throw mud balls at anybody and everybody they could.
Minho was their first target.
"Think fast!" Chuck yelled, throwing.
Minho turned. "Wha—ah!" He wiped the mud out of his face. "Chuck! Thomas!"
